The WHITE HIND

Settling into her new life at the abbey, Matilda still yearned to see her loved ones

- Jane Kemp

Christmastide, 1306.

Matilda carefully sharpened and shaped her quill before dipping it into the inkwell.

Sister Hilda had measured out her meagre portion of ink one drop at a time.

'Waste is sinful,' she admonished Matilda and her fellow students, 'so please ensure you make no blots on your work.'

That was easier said than done, mused Matilda as she began copying the prayer written on her parchment.

But she breathed no hint of discontent. The sheer delight she'd found in learning the wondrous skills of reading and writing silenced any grumbles over Sister Hilda's strictness, and her progress had been swift.

Stony-faced and carrying a wooden paddle for disciplinary purposes, the nun walked slowly up and down the lines of desks, where Matilda and the Abbey's young postulants worked in pairs.

Despite the freezing air outside, the library was warm from the comforting blaze in the fireplace. Green-dyed woollen cloths hung around its walls, keeping out draughts, and books filled the shelves from floor to ceiling. Comfortable padded seats were scattered throughout the room, but the girls sat on high wooden stools at their desks.

A sleek grey cat stepped its way gracefully through the legs of the stools.

Matilda's friend, Paulina, was surreptitiously glancing over at her work.

'I can't make my pen do the thick-and-thin thing,' she whispered to Matilda. The elegant italic script they were copying was challenging, but somehow Matilda's pen flowed smoothly to form the letters in a graceful line, while poor Paulina was struggling to copy even short words.

'Here,' Matilda murmured sympathetically, leaning across to adjust her friend's hand. 'Try holding it a little more at an angle, like this.'

They worked on, but the cat stopped at Paulina's feet and she leaned down to scratch its head, not realising that her unattended pen was leaking ink on to the desk.